Laid to Rest
by movieholic
Summary: Beautiful, brunette and successful are what he looks for, before beating them to death and claiming their right hands. Will Sam and the VCTF ever find the BBK killer? Why is John happy Sam is back one second, and terse with her the next? ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: VCTF never disbanded, Rachel left for whatever reason, and the VCTF had many profilers that never stuck for long over the years. They finally got Sam back recently. It is her first day back.**

* * *

A resounding shrill noise pierced the air, until a loud clump and a soft curse stopped it. John Grant slowly opened his eyes, peeking from underneath his pillow at the alarm clock he had just hit.

John moaned and burrowed his face into his pillow, wishing that the blaring red numbers would disappear and never come back. After five minutes, the alarm blared once more, once again coaxing a muttered curse from John as he slammed his hand down on the offending object.

"I guess it's time to get up." He muttered, lifting himself onto his elbows before turning onto his back and effectively wrapping himself up even more in the sheet that covered his fit body.

After a few minutes of trying to keep himself from being strangled by the white cotton, he extracted himself from the mess and placed his feet firmly on the carpeted ground. After rolling his neck and shoulders, and stood up and shuffled towards the bathroom, ready to prepare for the long day ahead of him.

* * *

"Nice of you to join us this fine morning, John." Bailey claimed in his deep voice as the younger agent joined the rest of VCTF members in the command center.

"Sorry, I got tied up." John muttered, placing his coat on the back of his chair as he took his usual seat near the top of the table.

"What was her name?" George asked innocently, causing some ripples of laughter from the other members as John made a face.

"Ha ha, George. So what do we got?" John asked, looking at his boss.

Bailey, trying to mask his amused smile, turned to John while pointing towards the large screen. Pictures of severely beaten women lying quite serenely in a various cemeteries filled the screen.

"We have a two year old case without any leads or suspects." Bailey griped, leaning back into his chair as he loosened his tie somewhat.

"Nothing?" John questioned, leaning forward as the team finally jumped right into the next case.

"Nope." George shook his head as he typed furiously on his laptop.

"Nada." Grace added, turning her curly haired, framed face towards John.

John sighed and asked Bailey without turning around, "Why do we get this case now? What's changed?"

"New murder," Bailey stated before turning to George, "Georgie."

"Right," the computer whiz started, typing nonstop into the computer, "This here is Elizabeth Wrightly. Her body was found in Meadow Lanes Cemetery last night, severely beaten and her right hand cut off."

"Meadow Lanes? Sounds like a retirement home to me." John claimed, earning a few smiles before Bailey started in.

"Elizabeth Wrightly is the seventh victim claimed by the Beautiful Brunette Killer." Bailey stated, throwing a newspaper into the center of the table.

Both George and John quickly reached for it, only to have Grace pluck it out of John's triumphant hands when he got it. Grace gave him a sweet smile as he protested, "Hey!"

"'The Beautiful Brunette Killer strikes again?'" she read causing John to laugh.

"Yeah, the writer of the article wanted to name him the Busty Brunette Killer but it didn't fly with the higher ups. Too bad."

Bailey smiled and said, "Yes, too bad."

John gave him a charming smile before sipping casually from the cup of coffee he had placed in front of him by a flirtatious F.B.I. Agent. John thanked her quietly, watching as she grinned and darted out of the command center, wriggling her butt for John to see. Bailey and Grace exchanged amused looks as George finally got his hands onto the newspaper.

"So he's the BBK?" he questioned incredulously.

John smirked as he placed his coffee back onto the table, "Sounds like something you order at Burger King."

"John…" Bailey warned, grinning nevertheless.

John pretended to be offended, "What? It does."

"Too bad it doesn't, this guy is real sick. Beating women into unrecognizable pulps, their faces were beaten so badly it was like playing with silly putty." Grace muttered as John grimaced.

"Thanks for the visual."

Grace gave him a look before replying sarcastically, "You're welcome John Michael Grant."

John stuck his tongue out, ignoring the look of disbelief on Bailey's face and George's amusement at his childish antics.

"Real mature," Grace muttered as she turned back towards the screen.

"Okay, here's what the victims looked like before they were," George cleared his throat as he glanced at the rest of the time, "Beaten into unrecognizable pulps."

George typed in a few things, and then paused as pictures of the deceased women came into view. John nodded his head appreciably; the women were stunning with long, brunette colored hair.

John whistled lowly, before turning to asks Bailey quietly, "Where's Sam?"

Bailey leaned forward slightly and shook his head, "She'll be in later, she had some personal business to take care of."

John looked up to meet Bailey's eyes, pursed his lips then gave him a curt nod as he shrugged. He turned in his seat to face the front and reviewed the case so far, "So we have seven victims who were beaten to death and had their right hands cut off over a two year period. Commonalitybeing beautiful, brunette and…?"

"Successful." A female voice finished for him from the entryway of the command center. The group turned to see Sam Waters standing at the top of the stairs.

"Hiya Sam." John greeted her, before giving her a large smile.

"Morning John, everyone." Sam greeted herself, before taking the last few steps into the command center and taking a seat next to John.

Everyone greeted Sam as well before turning towards the screen to study the pictures. John, who was sitting one seat behind Sam, leaned over her shoulder and asked softly, "Everything okay?"

Sam smiled and nodded, "Everything's great, John. Thank you."

John grinned and nodded, before leaning back into his own chair. Sam, by this time, was studying the pictures intently, her blonde hair swept over her slender shoulders. As usual, she clutched a pen in her hand, where she was clicking the top repeatedly as she thought and concentrated.

"Anything Sam?" Bailey asked from his seat, leaning forward in order to balance his large frame on his elbows as they came to rest on the polished, black table.

Sam cocked her head to the side and asked, "When did the killings start?"

George typed something into his computer and answered, "2006."

"So, two years ago?" she questioned as George nodded in the affirmative.

Everyone was quiet as Sam continued to study the screen, when she had a vision.

_Many people milled about in a cemetery, paying their respects to their loved ones. Rain drizzles down on a relatively young man who is standing beside a coffin yet to be buried. He placed his right hand on the wooden crate, eyes cast downward._

"Sam?" Bailey called out, aware that she was thrown into a vision of hers.

Sam shook her head and stood up, walking towards the large screen to study the pictures up close. The team watched her curiously, all silent as she traced her hand over one of the many tombstones visible in the picture of the recently killed Elizabeth.

"Look at where the body was found, a cemetery," she started quietly, mostly asking herself when she said, "Now what do you do in a cemetery?"

John looked around before he offered, "Bury the deceased, mourn the dead?"

George snickered as he jested, "Deceased and dead is the same thing John."

John shot him a look as Bailey smiled warmly at his bantering team, Sam continued on nevertheless.

"Mourn the dead…the one you love. Our killer has lost a loved one and is killing people who remind him of her."

"That's not right…" John muttered, focused once again on Sam and the screen.

"Look at the position of the body, George can you bring up the crime photos of the other victims?" Sam asked, turning to face the computer whiz with a hand on her hip.

"Sure thing," he claimed, typing something into the computer until the six other pictures joined the most recent one.

"They look like they were just sleeping, he cares for them." She stated quietly, sweeping a lock of her blonde hair from out of her eyes.

"Or who they represent," Bailey added.

"Exactly." Sam confirmed, shooting Bailey a smile before turning back towards the large screen.

"So why beat them to death and cut their hands off if he cared about them?" John questioned, disbelieving of their newly assembled profile.

_A well manicure hand flies through the air, striking something. The sound of skin on skin contact radiates through the air as the female's hand once again flies through the air and makes contact with an unknown human._

"Because whoever they represent, beat him."

Bailey nodded approvingly, "Good work Sam."

* * *

**TBC...**

**PLEASE REVIEW. **


	2. Chapter 2

Bailey nodded and thanked whomever he was on the phone with, hanging up and calling out, "Sam! Can I talk to you for a second?" when the blonde walked past his open door. Sam nodded and walked in, smiling as she cradled a few manila folders close to her chest.

Bailey stood up and walked over towards the door, closing it. When he turned he grinned and held his arms open for a hug, "I missed you Sam. We all did."

Sam smiled and allowed herself to be enveloped in the older man's strong embrace. When they pulled away, Sam said softly, "It's good to be back, Bailey."

Bailey nodded and walked back towards his desk, he leaned back into his chair and motioned for Sam to take a seat as well. After clipping a cigar and lighting it, he grinned and asked in his normally low voice, "How's Chloe? And Angel?"

Sam made herself comfortable in the offered chair and answered, "They're great. Chloe's gotten so big, and Angel's starting a tour for her artwork. It's great."

Bailey smiled as he drew on the cigar, "That's great Sam, I'm happy for all of you." Sam nodded and thanked him.

A quick knock at the door caused both people to look up and see a sheepish John Grant standing in the now open doorway. He glanced at Bailey, "I'm not interrupting am I?"

Bailey shook his head, "Come on in John, I know you're dying to hug Sam."

Sam laughed and stood up as John strode over and gave her a gentle, but secure hug. He twirled her around once, both laughing. John placed her on the ground and took a step back, looking her over.

"Sam Waters. Have I died and gone to Heaven?" he joked.

"We've been over this before, John Grant. No." she enabled him.

"Huh, I coulda swore I saw that Angel again," John grinned before he asked, "Speaking of, how is she? And Chloe?"

"They're great, as I was telling Bailey Chloe's gotten so big and Angel is currently getting ready for a statewide art tour."

"Really? That's fantastic! Give her my congrats." John wrapped an arm around Sam's slender frame and placed a kiss in her hair, "I missed you. I'm glad you're back."

Sam blushed, "I missed you too, and that childish humor of yours."

John pulled away and pretended to be offended once more, "I resent that."

"I bet you do," Bailey joined in, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Nah, not really. Anyway, I have work to do-" John started, motioning towards the door as he took a step back.

"I bet," Bailey gave him a half-serious look.

"But I just wanted to see My Lady before I did." John finished, shooting the two people a smile before he bowed gallantly and sauntered out.

"He hasn't changed," Sam laughed, joined by Bailey's infectious laughter seconds later. Bailey stood up and motioned towards the door.

"Not at all." Bailey quipped jokingly, as he and Sam exited his office with matching smiles of enjoyment on their attractive faces.

* * *

Just as Sam was making her way towards Grace's work area, she caught a piece of John's conversation from his desk. He was cradling a phone tightly in hand, his knuckles white as he gripped it angrily. He pressed it against his ear once more, and continued his conversation with the mystery person.

Sam made her way closer towards John, his back facing her as he sat at his desk, leaning forward in an obviously tense manner.

"I know what loss feels like! I understand…yes…so I tell you my story and you'll tell me yours? I'm a Federal Agent with the _FBI_; I demand you tell me your story first sir. Fine, I lost my girlfriend in a holdup a few years back. I cared dearly for her, but was too scared to admit my feelings till it was too late. She died in the hospital…I was there. Happy? Now can I have your story please? Thank you."

John paused as he got out a pen and paper, taking some notes as whoever the male was told him the story John wanted to hear. Sam watched him curiously, she had not heard of John losing anyone, how come nobody told her this?

"Thank you." John snapped, smashing the phone down back into its cradle. He took a few deep breaths, and pressed his forehead into his hands as he regained his composure. He suddenly slammed his hand onto his desk, took a few more deep breaths and sat up straighter. Quietly reviewing his notes to himself.

Sam, having been startled by this side of John, jumped slightly as another vision came to her.

_A small boy of about eleven or twelve cowers in a corner, where a shadow looms over him. A hand comes out and strikes the boys, he silently cries. A woman gets into his face; she's carrying a glass of scotch in her left hand and wearing a business suit. She places a kiss on the child's cheek, even though he flinches away. She then gets up, places the glass on a counter, straightens her suit and grabs a suitcase. She waves goodbye to the beaten child and exits the house._

Sam comes out of her vision just in time to see John walking over with his head down, staring intently at the notepad in his hand. He looks up in time to see Sam standing there; he grimaces and looks over at his desk.

"You didn't hear any of that, by any chance, did you?" he asks guiltily.

Sam shrugged and gave him a small smile, "Sorry."

John sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair, "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to be heard. Just another case I'm working on, you know, overtime and stuff."

Sam cocked her head to the side, trying to gauge his well-hidden emotions from his blue eyes. However he wouldn't meet her own, he brushed by her and muttered, "Excuse me."

Sam nodded and whispered, "Of course."

* * *

"George? Can you look up something for me?" Sam asked as she entered the empty command center, save for George.

"Sure, what?" George perked up, happy to be doing something.

"Can you look up any domestic disturbance cases from say, the early to mid 1990's?" she asked, leaning over his chair like she used to.

George nodded and asked, "In the local Atlanta area?"

"Yes, that's where all the bodies where found. So we can assume our killer lives within Atlanta." She surmised.

George nodded once again and typed in a few more things before pausing and looking up at Sam with a grin on his face.

"What?" Sam asked, sure she had something on her face suddenly.

"Nothing, I just missed this. I missed you." He claimed, earning a smile from her as he smiled back and continued typing on the laptop.

"Alright, with what you gave me, we have _over_ fifty cases of domestic disturbances." George sighed.

Undeterred Sam looked up at the screen and back at the laptop, "Try just 1990. Where he would be at least twelve years old."

"Okay…" George worked his magic, his hands flying over the keys, "That leaves us with twelve closed cases and five open ones."

"Let's bring up the open ones, if they were closed there would be no need to go on killing now." She said, mostly to herself.

George nodded and looked up at the screen when he had finished opening the correct documents. Sam walked away from George and looked at the five documented but unsolved cases of domestic disturbances within the local Atlanta area in 1990.

"Any of them involve child abuse?" Sam asked, barely turning her head to ask George as she could hear him factoring that in.

"One case, a Julian and Sandra Whitmore. The abused child was Jacob, he was twelve years old at the time."

"Who was the accused abuser?" Sam asked, sure they had the right man.

"Sandra Whitmore was, her husband died in that same year. She began drinking and becoming quite abusive according to eyewitnesses, around that time." George read off from the file.

"Was his mother an attractive brunette with a successful job?" Sam prodded.

"Uh, yes. She was described as 'angelic in features with flowing brunette hair.' Plus she ran her own shipping corporation."

"It's Jacob, he fits the profile to the t. But why stat killing two years ago?"

George did a few things on his laptop before he said, "I think I know why. Sandra Whitmore died in 2006, liver failure."

Sam nodded, "Jacob is our man. Good work George"

* * *

**TBC...**

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	3. Chapter 3

John shifted in his seat under the scrutinizing look of his boss, Bailey. John cast his blue eyes downward and refused to meet Bailey's dark ones. Bailey sighed and took another long draw from his dwindling cigar before speaking.

"So what exactly is the problem, John?"

"Sam overheard my conversation regarding Kate, and I was hoping you'd tell her to drop it before she picks it up, if you know what I mean." He asked sheepishly, once again awing Bailey at how young the agent looked.

"John, you should just tell her. It will help her learn what she missed, and maybe it will be good for you too."

"So that she can leave again?" John snapped before blushing and looking away, "Sorry, that was uncalled for."

Bailey sighed and leaned forward, "I understand John, I do. Just talk to her, okay?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sam appeared in the doorway, "We know who the killer is."

John and Bailey looked at each other and stood up at once, following Sam to the command center where Grace and George were waiting with the information to present to the two men.

After catching the two men up, Sam pondered over what she was going to say then she said it, "I want to be a decoy."

Bailey shook his head no, immediately, "No Sam. We just got you back, there's no way we're losing you now."

John nodded firmly, "Bailey's right Sam."

"I'm a grown woman, guys. I don't need to be sheltered anymore, Jack is dead." Sam watched as they all shuddered slightly at the mention of the man.

"Besides the women are brunette, not blonde." Grace tried in vain.

Sam laughed, "I can dye my hair, or wear a wig. I'm doing this, catching the guy in the act would be perfect."

"We don't know where he picks his victims out." John pointed out, trying once more to no avail.

"Cemeteries." She stated.

_A lone man hides behind a swaying tree, watching a funeral in progression. He sees someone who fits what he is looking for and smiles. When the funeral is over, he follows her to a car where he gets her license plate number._

_The same man is currently on a computer. He types her plate number in and learns all he can on the woman he picked out. He grins and mutters, "Ill be paying you a visit soon, mother."_

"He picks them out, then follows them to their car where he probably gets their plate number. Then he could just look the number up."

"I still don't like it." Bailey stated, his deep voice echoing.

"You don't have to. We need to nail this guy, and we're going to do so. That or he's going to continue killing women freely."

"No guilt trips." John muttered under his breath as he caught Sam's eye.

"We just took one." She retorted, locking eyes with John.

John sighed and gave up, "Bailey, let her. She's hell bent on it and even though we haven't heard or seen from her in years, I'm pretty sure she's still stubborn."

Sam, looking as if she was just slapped, looked at John. He looked hurt, however he noticed that she was profiling him once again and switched himself into neutral.

Bailey looked at John's tense form and Sam's willful one, and he too sighed. He motioned with his hand and ended, "Fine. You'll wear a wire, and a piece. You'll always have John and I watching your every move along with other appointed agents. George will be with us, in a van."

Sam nodded, having regain her placid composure once more. Bailey stood up and walked over to George, "Begin making up a good profile for Sam while John," he looked over at the younger, sullen agent, "You'll get on the phone and get a registered car for Sam under the name…" he looked over at Sam.

"Yes, uh, Caitlin Melrose should do." She offered, registering the start John gave at the name.

"Where'd you hear that?" he asked quietly.

"I made it up, why?"

John said nothing and shook his head, "Nothing, never mind."

Sam nodded, making a mental note to talk to Bailey about it later. Bailey looked over at John, noting the start he gave at the first name. **Her name was Kate, not Caitlin. He needs to relax. He's becoming paranoid.**

"John!" Bailey's booming voice caused the young man to jump, "Car, now."

John nodded and stood quickly, striding out of the command center towards his desk. Bailey turned towards Sam and said, "We're going to have to 'crash' a funeral."

* * *

**TBC...**

**PLEASE REVIEW! **


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm really sorry for doing this, Mrs. King. I know this must be a very hard time for you, but you'd be helping us put away a serial killer behind bars."

The elderly nodded and brushed some tears from her face; Bailey put a reassuring hand on her petite shoulder. "I will be sure that nothing interferes with the funeral."

"Thank you, Mr. Malone." She said wispily, shuffling back towards the coffin and people gathered around it. Bailey looked around and noted that Sam was in place as well as John.

"John?" Bailey whispered, watching the man as he strode along the path in the cemetery.

"All clear, Bailey." The man responded, equally as quiet.

Both men watched as Sam acted the part, weeping as they went on with the funeral. Eventually it was over and everyone dispersed. Bailey didn't see anyone suspicious, but kept his eyes peeled.

"Bailey, I may have a possible on our suspect." John's voice drifted into Bailey's ear as the older man looked up and saw John subtly tailing someone; "I'm following him towards Sam's car."

Bailey nodded and said, "Keep it up, be careful."

"Roger." , came the reply, causing Bailey to smile.

John followed the tall man towards Sam's car, where the latter was getting into it. She swept her brown hair out of her attractive face and started the car, and John noticed the man writing something down on his palm.

John watched as the man placed the pen back into his pocket, when the man disappeared John said, "We got him. Sam be careful, we'll be right on your tail."

Sam nodded as she heard John's voice in her ear as well, staring the car and backing out of the parking lot so that she could go to her temporary home.

Sam arrived at a two-story home; the large house was magnificent on the outside, yet empty in the inside. It was a setup, and Jacob would fall for it. He would break in, and beat Sam to death, cut her hand off and dispose of it before taking her to a cemetery.

John watched from the hedges as Jacob waited in his car, watching Sam enter her house. The man quickly exited and walked up to the house, the shadows of the upcoming night covering him. John radioed in, "He's going towards the house Sam. I'm coming in as soon as he opens the door."

"Okay," she whispered, from inside the large empty house.

Bailey, in the van with George, agreed silently. Jacob picked the lock and entered the house, only to be attacked by a furious brunette.

"FBI, you're under arrest!" Sam shouted, trying to cuff him. He threw her off and panicked when he saw John coming up the walk slowly, his gun drawn.

Jacob managed to grab Sam and pull her close, grabbing her gun in the process. John stiffened but continued on, "Drop the gun Jacob, we have you nailed!"

Jacob shivered and shook his head, looking around the massive dark house for an exit. He spotted the back door that led to the wooded backyard. Jacob let out a yell and threw Sam against John, Sam's gun still in his hand as he took off.

"You okay, Sam?" John asked.

"Yeah, go get him!" she gasped, swiping at the hair in her face.

John nodded and took off, just as Bailey and other agents came in and checked on Sam. Bailey looked at her and helped her up, "Where's John?"

"Outside, he went after Jacob." She stated, pointing at the open door.

Bailey cursed and motioned at the agents to follow him, they all went flying through the open door to be greeted by a large forested backyard.

"Spread out!" Bailey shouted.

"Bailey, he took my gun! Jacob is armed!" Sam shouted from the doorway.

Bailey cursed once more, "Agents, be warned. Suspect is armed and dangerous, repeat armed and dangerous!"

Meanwhile, John and Jacob were running like marathon runners through the thick brush and heavily wooded area. Jacob turned and fired a shot at John, who ducked behind a rock safely.

After a few more minutes of continued running, John tackled Jacob to the ground. They struggled as John tried to subdue the large man, however Jacob managed to grab an abandon rusted pipe and slam it into John's chest forcefully.

John stumbled back with a grunt, clutching his chest in pain. After the initial dancing lights in front of his eyes, John stood up and continued the chase, ignoring the stabbing pain. **Broke a rib or two…**

He managed to catch up to Jacob once more; the man was trying to cross a small river. John caught his breath and managed to shout, "Stop! Don't move or I'll shoot!"

John took a few steps forward, praying to God he wouldn't pass out now from the pain, his legs immediately became soaked from the water as it came up past his ankles.

Jacob shouted, "I'd rather die so long as I don't wind up where that bitch did!"

John shook his head over the pounding headache he was starting to get and called out, "How do you know for sure you won't? You don't, do you? Put the gun down and come with me Jacob, I promise you won't end up where Sandra is."

At the mention his mother's name, Jacob snarled and turned around quickly, pulling off one shot that hit John directly in the gut and caused him to stumble backwards. John looked down at his rapidly bleeding stomach and raised his gun to shoot. Jacob did as well, only to be shot down by Bailey when he emerged from the forest. Jacob fell onto the opposite embankment, whereas John fell forward into the cold water.

"John!" Bailey shouted, running towards the wounded man.

Bailey picked up the shivering agents body and carefully placed him on the dirt ground, "John, come on! I'm going to pick you up and run you to the house, okay? We'll have an ambulance waiting…"

John looked up through his wet lashes; water running down his handsome pallor. He smiled and shook his head, "Hopefully I'll join my mother."

Bailey shook his head, "I hope you join the land of the living as soon as we warm you up and get you taken care of."

John shivered violently before Bailey muttered and heaved John up into his strong arms, running towards the house as fast as he could with the soaking wet, wounded man in his arms.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Please Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

The trip to the hospital was the longest one for Bailey and the rest of the VCTF. They followed the speeding ambulance up and down winding streets until they finally reached the nearest hospital twenty minutes later.

Bailey nearly jumped out of his car before it even stopped, luckily for him he wore his seatbelt like any other law abiding citizen. Bailey pushed the car door open forcefully; slamming it shut behind him as he ran after the gurney he could clearly see the wounded John Grant on.

"John! John can you hear me?" Bailey called out, running alongside the gurney as they pushed it into the hospital where nurses and doctors were waiting to help.

John's head lolled back and forth, his eyes clearly unfocused on his handsome pallor. He tried to fight the darkness that ebbed in at the corners of his eyes, doing his best to focus his blue orbs on the large, scared man beside him.

"Bailey…" he whispered, but it was lost in the chaos as they pushed his gurney down the halls and passed the area where non-doctors couldn't go.

Bailey watched through the small square window from behind the double doors as the doctors continued wheeling John further and further away, cutting his shirt into pieces as they tried to access the wound. Then they disappeared around a bend.

"Bailey!"

Bailey turned in time to see Sam and George run up to him, both out of breath. Their eyes were bright with unshed tears as they both noticed Bailey's ashen face. They both helped Bailey over to a few chairs, everyone sitting down as they tried to comfort one another.

Sam rubbed her boss's back reassuringly as George stood up and began pacing, his hands visibly shaking as tears sprang from his chocolate colored eyes. Sam looked at the double doors that John disappeared through, praying to God someone would come soon and tell them the news.

At that minute a nurse came up to them and kindly asked them to fill the forms as best they could for John. Bailey took them quietly, immediately filling out the forms as Sam watched him, seemingly idle, from behind his shoulder.

George, having stopped his pacing and was hanging his head, suddenly snapped up and exclaimed, "Grace! I need to call Grace and tell her…she should know, she's John's friend too."

Bailey looked up and nodded before returning to the paperwork. Sam, momentarily forgetting her wig, tore it off feeling foolish. If she hadn't been so insistent on going undercover, John would have never been hurt. Hell, if Jacob hadn't managed to get her gun, John would have never been shot.

Sam bit back a small cry, causing Bailey to jump slightly. He placed the paperwork on a small end table to his side and turned to face Sam. He cupped her head in his hand and rubbed his thumb over her cheek tenderly before pulling his hand away in order to lean forward and envelope her small frame in both of his strong arms for a comforting hug.

George returned to see Bailey comforting Sam, he waited until they broke away before walking up slowly and muttering, "I called Grace, she's coming over."

Bailey nodded curtly, gave Sam a forced smile and returned to his mountainous paperwork that he needed to fill out for John.

* * *

"Okay, where is he? Have you guys heard of anything yet?" demanded Grace as she speed walked to the small, exhausted group.

They collectively shook their heads no; all sullen as they sat in their respected plastic chairs. Grace sighed and walked over to them, peering through the small window before sitting on a plastic chair herself.

"Nothing at all?" she sighed.

They all shook their heads no once more before Bailey looked up and said, "Something's wrong Gracie. Something's happened and they're not telling us. George called you forty minutes ago…"

"Bailey, you're overreacting. Forty minutes is nothing, he's probably in surgery."

George's head snapped up again as he questioned, "Surgery? I thought you said it's nothing."

"Lemme go check with a nurse, okay?" Grace ignored George's comment and stood up quickly, looking for an employee at the hospital.

Grace returned with a young woman, "This is Nurse Linda. She's going to take me to see how John is doing. I'll be back soon and I'll tell you everything, I won't give you the condensed-bullshit version okay?"

Bailey nodded and gave Grace a worn, but appreciative smile, "Thanks Gracie."

"No problem, hon. Come Nurse Linda, show me the way." They disappeared behind the doors, leaving the small group in quiet once more.

* * *

Grace and Linda returned thirty minutes later, Grace had changed into matching turquoise scrubs. She walked over a few feet to Bailey and the others, noting that Sam had fallen asleep against Bailey's shoulder.

Bailey, dozing off himself, sat up and carefully woke up Sam. They looked at Grace intently as Bailey stood up and demanded, "Is he okay? Will he be alright?"

Grace motioned for him to sit back down as she began to explain the full extent of John's injuries, "Besides the obvious ballistic trauma which nicked his large intestine, John has mild hypothermia, two broken ribs and one fractured one from blunt force trauma to his upper extremity."

"Was he in surgery?" George asked, his voice slightly raw as he leaned forward.

Grace nodded, "They needed to check the full extent of the damage done by the bullet. He lost a lot of blood too. They're still in surgery, stitching him back up now. They're worried about infection, so they're going to put him on antibiotics for that. I promised not to lie to you guys so I'm not… he didn't look too good."

Bailey nodded and gave the forensic pathologist a teary eyed look, "Thanks Grace."

"Can we see him soon?" Sam asked, after remaining quiet for so long.

Grace shook her head, "I'm not sure. I doubt it though. He's needs all the rest he can get…"

"I understand," Bailey muttered as he remember the times he was wounded like John, in fact John was always there to help him.

"I'm going to go back in and see how they're doing, I'm having Nurse Linda get you guys some coffee and food." Grace stood up and left, leaving the others to think over the situation at hand.

Suddenly Sam asked Bailey quietly, "Who did you put as his next of kin?"

"I actually don't know if there's a limit to how many I can…but I put the four of us as his kin," Bailey admitted modestly, turning to face Sam with a small smile.

Sam laughed softly and nodded, "Okay."

It was quiet until Bailey muttered, "Stubborn Irish bastard ran after Jacob with two broken ribs…"

Sam laughed just as Grace came out and protested jokingly, "Hey! That's no Irish bastard, that's John Grant."

"What's the difference?" George piped up, causing everyone to laugh a bit until they once again resumed their quiet, thinking state.

"He's out of surgery, by the way. They have him sedated, so until he comes out of it he won't be much company if you want to see him."

"When is John ever much company?" Sam jested this time as everyone stood to see John.

"We can go now, I assume?" Bailey asked, his deep voice no longer trembling with fear. He looked at Grace with fatherly concern.

"Of course, I'll lead the way."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Please Review. **


	6. Chapter 6

The small group looked on with a heavy heart, sadness hitting them all in thick waves as they stared intently at their fallen colleague and friend. Bailey took a hesitant step forward, silently urging the others to see John before him. George immediately complied and walked over to John's side, tears in his brown eyes.

Sam remained behind Bailey, unbeknownst to the older man. She felt guilt racking her body; John was shot with her gun after all. Bailey turned slightly and motioned with his head towards the bed, offering Sam a turn next. Sam agreed reluctantly, understanding that however much she wanted to see John last and apologize to him in seclusion, Bailey needed the time more.

Sam gently took hold of one of John's large hands, amazed at the softness of them. She caressed it with her thumb absent of mind, her blues eyes wet with fresh tears as she looked down at his pale face. His face twitched and his jaw ticked periodically, sending a ping in her heart each time.

Grace put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, aiding Sam out behind George. Sam paused and gave Bailey a small smile, which he returned. When they had exited, Bailey sighed and strode over to the younger man's side. Ignoring the beeps and noises from the various machines, Bailey took hold of John's hand and gripped it.

"You better be better than fine, when you're outta here kid. And you are getting out of here, Grant. There's no way you're going to nix all your paperwork with an excuse like this," Bailey joked quietly, aware of how hollow his voice sounded in the near quiet room. "John, I know that you feel deserted…I'm sorry for that."

Bailey took a moment as he bit back a sob, shocking himself at how emotionally attached he had become to another person…to this young man. Bailey shook his head and continued, "You think Sam deserted you…you think your mother deserted you…your father was a damn-" Bailey shook his head roughly, clearing his mind of terrible things to say as his voice rose at the mention of O'Doyle.

"You get better, John. You were there for me, when I was down, when I was hurt. Rest assured, we'll be here for you. I'll be here for you." With those last words, Bailey swiped promptly at some tears that managed to slip from his brown eyes and cascade down his cheeks.

Standing up quickly, Bailey squeezed John's limp hand firmly and cast him one last look. He turned on his heel and exited the room, nearly running into Sam. He made s start and gave her a forced smile, knowing full well it was futile to hide his tear stained face.

"Sorry, Sam." He apologized, his deep voice wavering slightly.

Sam shrugged and shook her head, "Don't worry about it Bail," she watched as he smiled once again and left the hallway, back towards the waiting room with Grace and George. Sam sighed and entered the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Watching John in his pain killer induced sleep sent another wave of sadness over her entire being. She took a few steps forward, her eyes never leaving John's face. She reached a hand out and caressed his cheek gently, glad that his skin was warm.

"Hey John." She whispered before taking the seat Bailey had recently vacated. She paused and watched him some more before continuing, "I'm pretty sure you don't want to hear a lot of talking, because I'm sure Bailey talked your ear off," she chuckled softly and wished to God he would open his blue eyes and she could see the twinkle.

"I'm sorry John. I feel guilty, and even though I know it isn't my fault, I can't help but feel guilty anyway. But then again, it is my fault isn't it?" she paused and thought about her words carefully. Leaning forward, she placed her elbows on the bed and continued, "I left the VCTF, and I left you. That was my choice, and my fault. For that I am truly sorry."

Sam watched helplessly as John slept on, his face still twitching periodically in his drug-induced sleep. Sam sighed and shook her head, "For now I'm done. The rest you need to hear for yourself, without drugs…bullets or machines." She glanced with a disgusted expression at the mentioned mentions, wishing there weren't so many.

Sam stood and reached the door quickly, casting a look over her shoulder at John, "I better see you soon, John."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Please Review.**

**SJR? It seems so, but I'm not entirely sure if it is. **

**They're close, I'll grant you that. We'll see how I feel later...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So very sorry for the long wait, I certainly hope that my few readers and the even fewer Profiler readers enjoy this new chapter!**

* * *

Two days had passed without any reassuring news about John's condition, the only news from the doctors being anything and everything that registered false hope.

Bailey looked at his large hands with a heavy heart, scared for his youngest agent even more now that he had lapsed into a coma over the first night. From what Grace managed to see, having had her access to John limited, she made it clear that John had managed to get an infection despite all the antibiotics they doped him up on.

Bailey scratched at the dark stubble that had accumulated over the few days, exhausted and drained. His dark brown eyes stared at the tiled floor blankly, his broad shoulders slumped.

He looked up briefly, slightly startled when he realized that he had company. Sam looked back at him intently, tears gathered in her blue eyes. She walked over quickly, her coat clutched in her slender hands.

"Oh, Bailey…" she whispered, sitting next to him on the nearest plastic chair. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close, hugging him as tightly as she could.

After a few moments, Bailey pulled away and forced a smile. He swiped at a few tears that pricked the corners of his eyes, "Thanks Sammy."

Sam nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She bit her bottom and waved a hand at the double doors, "Any news?"

Bailey scoffed and shook his head, "Nothing."

Sam nodded solemnly and sat stock still. She twisted her hands in her lap, her coat strewn across it carelessly. She finally looked up and placed a hand on Bailey's arm, "Go home, Bailey, get some rest."

Bailey began shaking his head in the negative before she finished her sentence, "I need to be here when he wakes."

Sam smiled ruefully and replied, "From the limited access we have with him, I highly doubt any one of us is going to be there at the exact moment he wakes, Bail."

Bailey paused and mulled it over, exhaustion winning over as he nodded slowly and grumbled, "Alright, two hours."

"Five."

"Three."

"Four."

Bailey smiled and shook his head, "Deal."

Sam returned the expression, patting his arm gently as she said, "I'll give you a call if and when I hear anything, okay?"

Bailey sighed, "Okay, Sam."

Sam smiled once more, watching as the large man stood up and gathered his heavy coat. He ambled out, his head low to the ground and a hand shoved into his pocket. Sam shook her head slowly before settling herself onto the plastic chair.

* * *

Sam jolted awake when she heard a soft patter of footsteps heading her direction. She cleared her throat and looked up. A small woman smiled sheepishly and apologized for waking her as she did.

"I wanted to let you know that Agent Grant, although still in a coma, is doing better. If you'd like to see him, it might help in speeding up his recovery." The Nurse relayed.

Sam, choking back an angry reply, nodded slowly as she stood up. She paused and looked towards the exit, "Do you mind if I call my boss? He deserves to see John more than I do at this moment."

The Nurse frowned and shook her head, "Sorry, Doctor Waters. It's now, or not for a while…"

Sam heaved a sigh and shrugged, "Lead the way please."

* * *

A few minutes later the Nurse dropped Sam off at the door before taking off elsewhere. Sam frowned in the lady's direction before stepping forward into the room hesitantly. She clutched her coat tightly, never having really let go of it since her arrival at the hospital.

She closed the door behind her softly before she called out in a meek whisper, "Hi John. It's Sam…just checking up on you…"

There was no movement from John, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. She inched closer, shuddering at the machines as they pumped and beeped randomly. She sat herself in a chair close to his side and finally looked at him closely.

John's face was milky white in color, he had dark circles underneath his eyes, and his pink lips were dry and cracked. Sam inspected further, noting the greasy sheen of his pale skin and his dark brown hair. She flinched when the scent of him hit her nose, finding herself apologizing aloud as though he could actually hear her.

Frustrated, Sam cursed. She laid her head against the cool mattress, her forehead pressed against his warm skin. "Damn it John, you better get better soon. Bailey's a wreck…George and Grace are burying themselves into their work, but they visit you every day…and me," Sam laughed harshly, "I miss the hell out of you. Your stupid jokes, your stupid smile, your stupid blue eyes…"

She closed her eyes, cloaked in darkness with her head pushed against the mattress.

"Who you callin' stupid?"

Sam jumped, her skin crawling. The voice was so familiar, so riveting…so raw, hoarse and raspy and low…so John.

Sam looked at his face intently, his eyes were closed and he looked as though he never move. She frowned and called out, "John?"

She received no response as she muttered, "And I'm hearing your stupid voice."

"Hey," Sam looked at him quickly, noticing the small smile on his handsome face, his eyes still closed.

"John!"

John opened one eye and whispered, "Am I in Heaven?"

Sam felt tears running down her face freely as she clasped his clammy hand and choked, "John, thank God!"

John's small smile widened as he managed to say, "Yeah…thank God He created you."

Sam blushed as she bit back a sob. Finally she called out, "Nurse! Nurse he's awake!"

Two nurses came running, entering the room recklessly as they threw the door open. They halted when they saw John's slightly opened eyes. One nurse shook her head and told Sam, "Honey, it's common for people in comas to open their eyes."

Sam shook her head, annoyed. "No, he's awake! He's talking to me…John-"

John jumped slightly and murmured, "Stop yer yelling Sam…"

The nurse gasped and ran to his side, checking his pulse and placing her hands all over his body to give him a quick checkup. The second nurse ran to check his stats on the monitors. John gave Sam a barely noticeable smile as he whispered jokingly to the nurse, "Watch how you're handling me, babe. Only certain ladies can do what you're doing."

The nurse, finally doing something correct in Sam's unwritten book, laughed and patted him gently on the back. John looked over at the second nurse, "Can a guy get some water in this place or what?"

The nurse nodded and took off as John continued, looking at Sam intently, "How long have I been out? Feels like days."

Sam shifted uneasily as she responded, "Two days to be exact."

Sam had expected John to be upset or angered by the news, however he didn't bat an eye as he mumbled, "Okay."

_**Must be the drugs**_, Sam thought as she watched the nurse flash a bright penlight in John's eyes.

"John?" Sam suddenly called out, thinking of Bailey and the others.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to step put, okay? I need to call Bailey and the others; they've been worried sick about you."

John didn't respond as he mumbled something incoherently. Sam sighed and quickly whipped her cell phone out, dialing the number for Bailey as quickly as possible. As soon as she reached the hallway, she was breathlessly telling Bailey that John had awakened. When she concluded her conversation with Bailey, she noted how quickly he answered his phone.

_**Poor man couldn't sleep**_.

John opened a blue eye lazily when he heard Sam returning. "How are you, Sam?"

Sam laughed, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

John squinted, "Depends…I've slept for at least two and a half days…and you _look_ like you haven't slept in two and a half days…"

Sam sighed, "I don't think I have…really."

Now it was John who signed, he closed his eyes as he moaned, "Sa-am…"

"You shouldn't be complaining, Grant...you should be sleeping." Sam stated, moving to his side.

"I think I've slept enough," he grunted, before adding, "Besides, what kinda of host would I be if I went to bed before Bailey is scheduled to appear?"

Sam laughed, "A tired, worn-out, wounded and sick host."

John winced, "I see your point."

Sam placed her hand on his arm and rubbed her thumb up and down, so used to doing it while he was sleeping. He looked down as best as he could at his arm and back at her, "You're not in the habit of touching people as they sleep, are you Sam? Because I personally think that's creepy," he joked, his voice still raw.

Sam pulled back and laughed nervously, "Sorry."

John shook his head slowly, "Don't be, it's comforting. I miss it…" he trailed off and looked away uncomfortably.

Sam cleared her throat, but placed her back and continued her soothing thumb rub. She sat down in the vacant chair she had left, her hand never leaving John's arm.

He smiled boyishly and thanked her, his voice soft and hoarse. He drifted off into a deep sleep, one that Sam prayed he would certainly wake from.

**TBC...**

**Please review!**


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